


Once Upon a Birthday Party

by jncar



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1551206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jncar/pseuds/jncar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Emma hires a kids' music performer who calls himself "The Prince of Someplace" for Henry's 8th birthday party, she ends up with more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Birthday Party

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU very loosely inspired by "Johnny Karate" aka Andy Dwyer on the sitcom Parks and Recreation (which is an awesome show and you should all watch it) and also a very sketchy spoiler going aroundTumblr. Jadeddiva made me do it.

"Well, clowns are out," said Emma, staring at the screen of her laptop as she sat beside her best friend and one-time foster sister Mary Margaret in their favorite coffee shop. "Henry's too old for clowns."

"Good," said Mary Margaret, "because I couldn't bring Leo if you hired a clown. He's terrified of them."

"Really?" Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow. Even at just six years old, Mary Margaret's son, Leo, never seemed to be afraid of anything.

"Really." Mary Margaret nodded. "Clowns are creepy."

"Okay. That's decided, then. No clowns. How about a magician? Henry likes magic. Look at this one. The Amazing Mr. Gold." She slid the laptop over to Mary Margaret to show her the website.

"Maybe," said Mary Margaret. "His Yelp reviews look pretty good. Or—how about that place that brings snakes and turtles and frogs and whatnot to your house? I've heard they put on a fun party."

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Yuck. No. I don't care if he only turns eight once—I am _not_ filling my apartment with creepy creatures for his party."

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Fine. But the boys would love it."

Emma ignored her and clicked through a few more websites of magicians and jugglers instead.

Suddenly, Mary Margaret snapped her fingers. "I have the perfect idea," she said. "I just remembered. About nine months ago Leo went a party for a friend of his from kindergarten. His mom hired a singer-slash-storyteller who calls himself _The Prince of Someplace_. He does the whole medieval prince, knight in shining armor thing. Henry likes that sort of thing, right?"

Henry couldn't get enough of reading about castles and knights lately, and he loved his fantasy video games and his Lord of the Rings movies. "Yeah, he does. So this guy sings?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "He has a guitar, and he sings and tells stories and gets the kids involved in medieval role-play and sword fighting, the whole shebang. The music was surprisingly good, and he was funny and engaging—Leo talked about it for a week—and, as an added bonus, he's ridiculously hot."

Emma rolled her eyes. It always came back around to that, didn't it? "Please tell me this isn't another set-up attempt, is it? Because a kids' party performer? Really? That's scraping the bottom of the barrel."

Mary Margaret laughed and shook her head. "No. I promise. After the Walsh fiasco I am _never_ setting you up again."

 _Thank God_ , thought Emma.

Mary Margaret continued, "I just figured that if you're hiring entertainment for the kids, you might as well pick someone who's a little entertaining for the moms, too. If you know what I mean." She grinned suggestively.

Emma shook her head but plugged "Prince of Someplace" into Google search anyway. A few moments later she found the website.

Her eyes went wide when a picture of a stunningly handsome man in a puffy white shirt and a leather vest popped up on her screen. Vivid blue eyes, a short deliciously scruffy beard, and thick deep brown hair rounded out the look. Lord—he really could pass for a prince.

"Yep," said Mary Margaret. "Just as hot as I remembered."

"No kidding."

Emma played a few audio clips of his songs and read a few of the glowing testimonials. He looked like a good pick. But she really shouldn't spend the whole of Henry's party drooling over the hired entertainment. She bit her bottom lip. "I don't know. Maybe Henry's too old for the whole singing and playacting thing."

Mary Margaret shook her head. "No—but he will be soon. This is probably your last chance to pull off something like this. You need to go for it."

Emma nodded. Mary Margaret was right. Henry was growing up far too quickly. She'd better take this chance now, or she'd miss it altogether. "Okay. I'm sending him an email."

~ ~ ~

A few emails and phone calls later, and all the arrangements were made. The "Prince" was actually named Killian, and he had a slight Irish accent that sent shivers down Emma's spine when she talked to him. 

_No. Don't even think about it. Down girl._

She resisted the temptation to get personal and ask him about it. The arrangements were made, the party was scheduled, invitations were sent.

Soon enough, the big day arrived.

An hour before the party Emma was putting the final touches on the medieval themed decorations when the intercom buzzer sounded. She pushed the button. "Who is it?"

"Killian Jones, for the party?"

"Come on up." She buzzed him through.

He arrived at her door lugging two hefty equipment cases. And yes—he was even hotter in person.

Yet she was surprised to find _him_ being the one to do a double-take when she opened the door.

"Mrs. Swan?" he said, a half-smile on his lips.

"Ms.," she replied out of habit. "But Emma's fine. Come on in. You can set up in the living room over here."

She tried not to notice the way his smile got a little wider at the "Ms.," and she really tried not to notice the way his tight leather pants displayed his butt as he carried his equipment into the apartment. What kind of douche wore tight leather pants to a kids' party?

He set his cases down and glanced around the space. "Do you think we can push the furniture back a bit?" he asked in that infuriating accent of his. "There's not quite enough room for the jousting tournament."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Jousting tournament?"

"All part of the complete Prince of Someplace experience, milady," he said with a grin and a little bow.

Was he flirting with her? _Oh boy_.

He might not be date material, but a little harmless flirting wouldn't do any harm, would it? "Sure. No problem," she replied, smiling. "I wouldn't want the sofas to interfere with the Prince of Someplace experience. I intend to get the most for my money."

He nodded and grinned—was he _blushing_? 

A man bold enough to walk around in those pants really shouldn't blush at a little banter. Emma was more and more intrigued by the minute, but there was no time to waste. She had a party to set up.

She helped him move the furniture and he went back down for the rest of his equipment.

Mary Margaret arrived just after Killian came back up with his second load, and she eyed him appreciatively from the kitchen as she helped Emma set up the food. 

"Nice view," Mary Margaret remarked quietly as Killian bent over one of his cases.

Emma nudged her with her elbow.

"Come on! I can't be the only one thinking it," Mary Margaret said indignantly.

She wasn't. Not by a long shot. "You are a happily married woman," Emma hissed.

"That doesn't mean I stop noticing," Mary Margaret replied.

After he finished setting up, Killian approached. He was still wearing a modern jacket over his costume, but Emma could glimpse the leather vest and puffy shirt underneath.

"So, I'm all set to go, then," he said, smiling warmly at Mary Margaret but then turning his full gaze on Emma. He ducked his chin a little and looked at her with the tops of his eyes. "So, will, uh, Henry's dad be joining us?"

Emma folded her arms across her chest and shot him a tight-lipped smile. She'd heard that line before. "No. My ex lives in Boston. He doesn't usually make it to stuff like this."

Killian nodded and shrugged. "Well, no matter. I'm sure between the two of us we'll manage to show the lad a rousing time."

Emma couldn't help but smile, even as she shook her head dismissively. "Yeah. I'm sure we will."

"I'll take my empty cases back down to my van," he said. "And then I'll wait until about twenty minutes after the party starts to come back up. I like to make a bit of an entrance. Part of the—"

"Prince of Someplace experience?" Emma finished his sentence.

He grinned, eyeing her appreciatively. "Exactly, milady. I'll see you then, shall I?"

"Absolutely," she replied.

He gave her a wink that made her heart jump a little before turning back to collect his cases.

"I think he likes you," Mary Margaret said, nudging her.

"Whatever. I'm sure he flirts with all the moms," Emma replied. It probably earned him bigger tips. She didn't have time for this. Not with the guests arriving soon.

She and Mary Margaret called for Henry and Leo to come out of the bedroom. Within fifteen minutes the apartment was swarming with pint-sized party guests and a few of their parents.

All the kids piled their gifts on a table near the door and everyone mingled for several minutes. Finally, exactly twenty minutes after the planned start-time for the party, a loud knock rang on the door.

Emma grinned and strode toward the door with mounting excitement. The kids were going to love this so much!

She pulled open the door and her jaw dropped.

Killian may have been hot before, but now, with his modern jacket gone and a bit of chest hair showing at the top of his puffy shirt, a sword hanging at his side and a confident gleam in his eyes, he was positively breathtaking.

"My Lady Swan," he said loud enough for the guests to hear. He swept into an elegant bow and then straightened up, meeting her eyes with a cocky smile. "Prince Killian of the land of Someplace at your service. Permission to enter your glorious realm?"

"Permission granted," she said, stepping aside. He swept into the room, and the eyes of every woman in the place were instantly riveted.

"And where is young Lord Henry?" Killian asked.

Henry jumped up and waved his hand in the air. "Here! Here!"

Killian swept into another dramatic boy. "My Lord."

Henry grinned stupidly and watched as Killian straightened back up.

"Lord Henry—I have been summoned here today to join in the festivities celebrating this, the anniversary of your birth. And I can think of no better way to do so than to go on some adventures. Would you like to go on some adventures, Lord Henry?"

"Yes!" Henry shouted.

Emma smiled. The little-boy roundness had already left his cheeks behind, and it wouldn't be long now before he'd start to get tall. She needed to treasure moments like these while she still could.

"Would you all like to join us on our adventures?" Killian asked the gathering of kids who now stared raptly up at him.

"Yes!" they all exclaimed, jumping up and down.

"Let's get started!" he declared.

While the sight of a leather-pants wearing man being swarmed by a pack of 6-8 year olds would normally be creepy, today it seemed oddly perfect. Emma stepped back into the kitchen with the other adults, but watched with a smile on her face as Killian started handing out "adventure bags," which were little canvas totes filled with play-acting supplies, and foam swords for everyone.

She never had anything like this when she was a kid growing up in the foster system, and it warmed her heart that Henry would have all these wonderful memories to look back on someday. And so would she.

After giving the kids a few rules about handling their bags and swords carefully and respectfully, Killian took a seat on the stool he'd set up and picked up his guitar.

"Every great adventure starts with a great story," he said to the riveted crowd of youngsters. "And this one shall begin with the story of my homeland—the land of Someplace."

He strummed the guitar and began to sing. " _Oh let me tell you the tale of a magical place—a place of adventure and thrills. Let me tell you the tale of this mysterious place—a place sure to give you all chills. Let me tell you the story of Someplace. This place where all dreams can come true. But the biggest secret of Someplace, is that any place can be Someplace as long as I'm with you_."

Emma felt her stomach clench as his smooth voice filled the room, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him as he strummed his guitar and launched into the chorus.

" _Any place can be Someplace—oh, any place at all. Any place can be Someplace—any place can be—just as long as it's a place filled with you and me. So come on an adventure, and soon enough you'll see—any place can be Someplace if it's filled with you and me_."

Emma bit down lightly on her bottom lip, warmth surging through her. It felt just like the first time she'd gone to see a live a band and she'd fallen head over heels in love with the lead singer—but just for that night. God—was she sixteen all over again, or something? _Get it together_ , she chided herself.

"He can visit my Someplace anytime he wants," murmured her friend Ruby. Given that her rocky relationship with her kid's dad was once more in an "off-again" phase, Emma was pretty certain Ruby meant what she said. What surprised Emma was that her first instinct was say that she already had dibs.

Though Killian had remained focused on the kids for most of the song, when he reached the final repeat of the chorus he lifted his eyes and locked his gaze with Emma, as if he'd known exactly where she was standing the whole time. " _So come on an adventure, and soon enough you'll see—any place can be Someplace if it's filled with you and me_."

Her stomach did a little flip and her throat felt tight.

She looked away as the kids clapped and turned to check on the food and drinks again. Nope. No more ogling the kids' party performer. Enough of that.

Emma tried to spend the rest of the party mingling with the other adults, but her eyes kept darting back to the living room—not just to watch Henry having the time of his life, but to watch Killian Jones, too.

His songs and stories had the kids utterly engaged. After a few warm-up songs he got them up and involved in some play-acting with their "adventure bags" while he fed some pre-recorded music through his portable sound system. The way Henry's face lit up with excitement made her heart leap.

Halfway through the party she watched as Killian gave the kids instruction in swordsmanship. His sword was also foam (thank God), but of a higher quality and more realistic appearance than theirs. Soon enough they were all slashing and jabbing like pros.

Then he pulled on an eye-patch, covered one hand in a fake hook, and switched on a song that Emma had no doubt would be used by Henry to torment her for at least the next week. Any song about a Pirate King would have been bad enough, but this one had a particularly catchy chorus (enthusiastically acted out by over a dozen sword-wielding kids).

" _Stab stab, kick kick, punch him in the nose! Stab stab, kick kick, stomp on all his toes! Stab and kick and punch and stomp 'cause anything goes when you are the Pirate King!_ "

In end the little soldiers did manage to defeat the Pirate King (she laughed when Killian fell dramatically to the ground under the onslaught of foam blades), but she had a feeling they'd all be playing pirate once they got home.

After another twenty minutes of fun Killian announced that it was time for the grand conclusion of the day's adventures: the jousting tournament.

"My Lady Swan," he called. 

Emma turned and blinked in surprise.

Killian smiled as he met her eyes, and her heart jumped a little again. "My Lady," he said, "as these bold knights will all be competing for your honor, perhaps you would be willing to come take your seat of honor and oversee the tournament?"

Emma could feel the heat rising in her face when she returned his smile. "I would be glad to, Your Highness."

Ignoring Mary Margaret's smug grin, Emma strode over to the living room, and took Killian's outstretched hand.

His palm was warm and soft and she felt butterflies dancing in her stomach as he led her to the stool to take her seat. She giggled nervously when he pulled an artificial rose from his box of supplies and bowed before handing it to her. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady."

Emma sat beaming while Killian turned on some rousing music and led the kids through their tournament—which consisted of them taking turns bashing each other with foam pool noodles. Before each charge the kids joined Killian in the oh-so-creative chorus of his song "Jousting Time," all chanting together. " _It's jousting time. It's jousting time. 1,2,3 GO!_ "

At the conclusion of the tournament, Henry's friend Kyle was named the winner, and he bowed in front of Emma so she could place a medal around his neck while the other kids cheered.

Killian stooped to murmur in Emma's ear, sending a fresh wave of shivers down her spine. "I'm ready to wrap things up. Would you like to do presents next or do you want to get the cake ready and sing Henry his Happy Birthday?"

"Let's do the cake," she said. "I'll go get it ready."

Killian nodded and stood back up. "Thank you, my lady. Let's all give Lady Swan three cheers while she goes to prepare the birthday feast. Hip hip hooray!"

Emma grinned from ear to ear walking back to the kitchen while Killian led them through their cheers.

He finished off the party with an encore of "The Story of Someplace." Once again Emma felt his eyes on her during the chorus. Either the man was an incorrigible flirt, or, less likely, he felt the same kind of electric connection between them that she was feeling. Which was absurd. It wasn't like she was even seeing the real man—it was all just an act for money.

"Now I believe it's time to offer Lord Henry some birthday wishes," said Killian as Emma brought out the cake, glowing with candles.

Mary Margaret shut off the lights and Killian strummed his guitar while they all sang Happy Birthday, and Henry blew out his candles.

Mary Margaret stepped up to help dish out the cake while Killian pulled Emma aside. Her heart raced a little, and she felt silly.

"I could pack up my things now," he said quietly, "or, if you'd rather, I could step out for a bit and come back in an hour to pack up so I won't be in your way."

As immature as she knew it was, Emma really liked the idea of getting a final chance to talk to him once the chaos of the party had ended. "I like the second option, if it's not too much trouble?"

"Not at all," he replied, and Emma could swear that his smile looked a little relieved and happy. Had he been hoping for a private moment, too? _Nope. Stupid. Dumb decision, Emma._ "I'll step out of a coffee and come back in an hour. See you then."

He made a much bigger show of wishing a final happy birthday to "Lord Henry" and bidding the rest of the guests adieu, leaving to the accompaniment of another round of applause.

"So he's coming back?" Mary Margaret said softly, wagging her eyebrows.

Emma rolled her eyes and ignored her.

An hour later after the guests were gone and Henry was holed up in his room, playing one of his new video games, Emma buzzed Killian back in.

He'd shed the sword and was wearing his modern jacket again over his costume.

Emma tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach as she let him back in. 

"Does Henry like his presents?" he asked with a smile.

"You bet he does," she replied. "Not that that'll stop him from losing half the pieces to his new toys within a month." She hesitated for a moment, and then decided that if she was going to flirt with the party performer she might as well go all out. "Hey—we have some cake left. Would you like a piece?"

"Yeah. That sounds great," he said. His hands were in his pockets and he shuffled his feet, looking suddenly shy, most of his bravado from the party gone. So it really was all an act. Emma wasn't sure whether she was disappointed or pleased—or a strange mix of both.

She served him up a piece and he dug in.

"Mmm," he hummed around his first bite. After swallowing he said, "Delicious cake. Thanks."

Emma grinned. "Well, you can thank the bakery for that. I can manage a batch of chocolate chip cookies, but a fancy cake is still a little out of my comfort zone."

He smiled and shook his head. "You have good taste in bakeries, then."

As he took another bite, Emma asked, "So how many of these parties do you have to do every week to keep the bills paid?"

"Oh—I only do three or four a month," he replied. "This is just a side job I do to get out of my apartment and be around people. I'm kind of a people person, but I work alone out of a home office. It's gets a bit dreary at times."

"Really?" He'd managed to surprise her. "I had you pegged as an actor who did this to pay the bills between bigger gigs."

He shook his head, a smile dancing at the edge of his lips. "Nope. Not an actor."

She leaned against the counter, resting her elbows on the surface, and smiled up at him. "So what do you do?" Her next guess would be writer. But he might surprise her again. Most guys never surprised her—it would be nice for a change.

"I'm, uh, in app development." 

Were his cheeks getting red?

"You're a programmer?"

He set down his plate and started gesturing nervously with his hands as he spoke. "Well, I'm trained as a programmer and that's where I started out, but, uh, now I'm more on the creative end of things. You see, I, uh, compose the music for mobile apps."

She couldn't stop herself from laughing. He'd certainly managed to surprise her.

"That's funny, is it?" he said, but he wore a smile on his face.

"Just unexpected," she replied. "I never really thought about where that music came from before. So you write all the annoying theme songs that I mute when I'm playing games on my phone?"

He spread his arms. "Guilty," he said. 

"So basically you're a professional nerd," she said.

He shrugged with a silly expression, but his eyes were still bright and playful. "Apparently it's in my blood."

She stood up a little straighter, eyeing him appraisingly. "So how did a programmer-slash-composer get into the kids' party business?"

He leaned against the counter and kept eye contact. A good sign. She liked a man who wasn't afraid to meet her eyes. "I was in a band for a long time, out of college. Mostly covers, just doing gigs in small bars. But eventually everyone started getting busy with jobs and kids and whatnot and we called it quits right around the time I went freelance and started working at home. I was going stir-crazy and got bored and wrote a few songs for my nephew's birthday party almost two years ago. One of the ladies there liked my act so much she offered to hire me for her son's party, and it just kind of grew from there."

He might be a nerd, but he was a handsome and intriguing one. "Was that a weird shift—to go from playing bars to doing—" she gestured at the costume, "this?"

"A bit. But it's fun. I like kids."

She nodded. "I can tell." He had a rapport with the kids that no one could fake. Just the sort that would make him a good dad…

_Whoa, girl. Getting wayyyy ahead of yourself._

"Huh. So you compose annoying soundtracks for apps and fun party songs for kids. Interesting combination."

His eyes lit up and he bounced on his heels a little. "And when I’m bored I write ring tones, too."

This earned him a big laugh. He was getting nerdier by the minute.

He pulled his phone out and hit the screen a few times. "Here's my latest," he said, a sheepishly proud smile on his flushed face. A fun little electronic tune with a reggae beat filled the air, and Emma laughed yet again.

"Does this get you many girls?" she teased.

His eyes took on a wicked gleam as he shut off the song. "No. That's what the leather trousers are for."

She found herself laughing again. Oh boy. If she didn't watch herself she'd actually find herself liking him. 

He laughed with her. "Like you said, professional nerd. How about you? Are you some sort of high powered businesswoman? Maybe a lawyer?"

It was her turn to surprise _him_. She shook her head. "I'm a bail bondsperson."

His eyes went wide and his jaw quite literally dropped. "Like a bounty hunter?"

She nodded. "Yep."

"Wow. So I'm a professional nerd, and you're a professional badass. I'm officially impressed. And slightly intimidated."

"I get that a lot," she admitted. Her profession certainly hadn't helped her love life much over the years. And it looked like today would be no different. "Uh—do you need any help packing up?"

His face fell a little. "No. I'm good. I'll just get everything out of your way."

Emma couldn't help but feel as if she'd said something wrong when he turned and headed into the living room to pack up his supplies. She ignored the nagging feeling and went back to doing the party dishes.

He took down his first load of supplies and came back for the second. A few minutes later he was ready to go.

Emma wiped her hands on a hand towel and took a deep breath before picking up the check she'd made out. She turned and walked up to him. "Well, here you go," she held out the check. "Henry had a great time. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, a wistful smile on his face. He pocketed the check and held out a few business cards. "If you could refer me to your friends I'd appreciate it. That's how I get most of my gigs."

She nodded, suddenly feeling a little lost inside. It was just her inner sixteen year old acting up again. "No problem. I'd be happy to." She squeezed the cards in her hand.

He nodded again and back away to pick up his last case of supplies. "Well, thanks for your business," he said, stepping toward the door.

"You're welcome," she said just above a whisper.

He opened the door but then paused. She watched as he took a deep breath and turned back to face her. "Emma—I want you to know that this isn't something I do a lot. Or ever, really. But I just, uh, well… I was wondering if you might want to maybe go get some coffee together sometime soon?"

Emma held her breath, clutching his business cards even tighter. He was soooo not her usual type. But maybe that was a good thing? But maybe it wasn't.

No. This was ridiculous. She couldn't go out with the party entertainer just because he happened to be hot and she happened to be in a dry spell. (A very long dry spell.)

"Killian—thank you. I'm flattered. But I'm going to have to pass."

He squeezed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah. I thought so. But I wouldn't be living up to my reputation as a bold adventurer if I didn't at least try—right?"

She smiled. God, he was charming. Not right for her. But undeniably charming. "Right. Have a good weekend, Killian."

"You too. Goodbye, my lady." With a parting smile, he walked out the door.

And Emma spent the rest of the evening reminding herself that yes, she'd made the right decision.

~ ~ ~

Two mornings later Emma nearly choked on her hot cocoa when Henry suddenly said, "You should date someone like Prince Killian."

She blinked a few times and shook her head. "Excuse me?"

"You should," he repeated. "Prince Killian was really awesome. He could play the guitar, and sing, and he was fun and smart. You should totally date someone like him."

"I'll keep that in mind, kid," she said, glad that Henry let it drop and moved on to other equally random topics.

She brought it up to Mary Margaret when they met for lunch the next day.

After they both had a good laugh, Mary Margaret said, "Maybe Henry has a point. Maybe you should date someone more like Prince Killian. He was so sweet and fun compared to most of the guys you go for. They're usually so sullen and gloomy."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. Sullen and gloomy weren't words she ever would have picked for her type, but now that Mary Margaret mentioned it, she might be onto something. "You know," she confessed, "Killian actually asked me out when he was packing his things up."

"He did?" A broad grin spread on Mary Margaret's face. "What did you say?"

Emma shrugged and shook her head. "I turned him down."

"Emma!"

"Mary Margaret! Come on. You really think I should go out with the kids' singer? And his day job is even nerdier. We talked a little, and he's really pretty dorky." But also sweet. And funny. And hot. God—so hot.

Mary Margaret glared. "David is pretty dorky too, but that doesn't mean he's not also kind and charming and wonderful and sexy. You need to get over your obsession with dark and intense men. Try out someone a little dorky. I think it'll be good for you."

Emma tapped the table with her finger, thinking that now was definitely not the right time to confess that she'd slipped one of Killian's business cards into her wallet on a whim. "I'll think about it."

"Don't just think about it. Do it. If not with Killian, than with some other nice dorky guy. Really, Emma, you need to change things up."

On that point, at least, Mary Margaret was probably right.

~ ~ ~

Two nights later Emma left the police station after dropping off her latest perp. It was still earlier and she'd expected the stakeout to go late into the night, so Henry was already over at Mary Margaret's place for the night. She was on her own.

After a few minutes of thought she decided to hit one of her favorite bars to check out the action.

She slide onto a stool at the bar and ordered a drink. The bar looked to be filled with the usual assortment of "Ugh," "ick," "nope," and the handsome but sullen and gloomy types that Mary Margaret had (probably accurately) accused her of preferring.

Emma sipped her drink and frowned. Her friend was right. She was a mom of an eight year old. She needed something better than the types of guys she could pick up at bars.

As she sipped her drink she started humming to herself, and after the final swallow she sang a little under her breath. " _Stab and kick and punch and stomp 'cause anything goes when you are the Pirate King!_ "

Oh God. She really had a problem.

She paid her tab before any of the guys eyeing her had time to offer her a drink and left. As she walked to the subway she pulled out her phone and slipped Killian's business card out of her wallet.

"Ready for an adventure?" she muttered to herself. Here went nothing.

She punched in his number and hit "talk."

After a few rings he answered. "Killian Jones here." She smiled at the sound of his accent. 

_Please don't let this be a mistake._

"Hi Killian, this is Emma. Emma Swan—from the party last Saturday?"

"Emma—hi. Good to hear from you. Is one of your friends looking for a party entertainer or something?" 

Naturally he'd expect the call to be about business. This was getting awkward. But she couldn't back down now.

"Um—no, actually," she said. "I was just… you know… thinking about your offer to get coffee sometime. I think maybe I was too hasty when I turned you down. Would you possibly still be interested in getting coffee sometime?"

There was a pause. Emma hated pauses. She gritted her teeth, preparing for the worst.

"Well," he said, an amused tone in his voice. "This is a surprise."

"A good surprise?" she asked, trying not to get her hopes too high.

"Very good," he replied. "I would love to get coffee sometime."

"How does tomorrow sound?"

"Tomorrow sounds absolutely perfect."

They worked out a time and a place, and Emma hung up with a smile on her face. 

Time to give something new a try.

She stepped onto her train singing softly to herself. " _So come on an adventure, and soon enough you'll see—any place can be Someplace if it's filled with you and me._ "

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I'll ever continue this. We'll see if inspiration strikes.


End file.
